


Healing

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: Jensen and Misha just ran a marathon and now it's time for a little R & R.





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Am I done writing marathon fics? Never. 
> 
> Enjoy. :)

Jensen gets back to Vancouver late considering the early morning he’s going to have tomorrow post-marathon. It’s nearly nine when he and Misha land in YVR, and pushing ten when they end up back at his place.

Misha had informed Jensen of his decision to come back to Vancouver with him on Sunday after the marathon a few weeks ago. Misha hadn’t been sure how he’d feel, but he knew that regardless of his state afterwards, driving into work the next morning would be the worst possible idea. He’s had a lot of bad ideas, running a marathon with an injured knee and a cold being one of them. Jensen is already in worry mode over him, has been since Misha finished the run and promptly dissolved into a coughing fit as Vicki helped him over to the sidelines.

Even with Jensen’s aching knee and Misha’s hip injury and cold, it has been a fantastic day. Everyone actually finished the race as much as they were able, and a lot of money was raised to help needy kids. Overall, despite the now present excruciating aches and pains, Jensen decides to call the whole venture a success.

The moment he steps inside his front door, exhaustion hits him like a ton of bricks. Misha hovers near the door for a few moments, carefully pulling his shoes off. He cringes as he does, muscles in his calves aching from the exertion of earlier. Jensen catches his eye and gives him a sympathetic look, which contorts into a sort of grimace when he takes off his own shoes, causing Misha to start laughing.

Misha comes close after Jensen’s done, wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist and presses his lips against Jensen’s in a soft kiss, which is the one place where Jensen _isn’t_ hurting right now. He slips his arms up around Misha’s shoulders while they kiss, clasps them behind his neck and holds on.

“You look exhausted,” Misha remarks when he pulls back, eyes darting over Jensen’s face.

“And in a few days, I’m going to have cold,” Jensen teases.

Misha kisses him again, because he’s an asshole and says, “What, do you not want me to kiss you then?”

Jensen shakes his head and grins, “I didn’t say that.”

“Hmm, well if you do get sick, I’ll take care of you,” Misha says so earnestly that Jensen feels a flutter in his stomach.

“You always do,” Jensen says, and then he’s kissing Misha, soft and deep a slow tangle of their mouths, because getting sick is worth it if he gets to have this for the next few days.

“We did it, we actually ran a fucking marathon,” Jensen says, grinning at Misha. They’re still touching, Jensen can’t seem to stop.

“Yes, we did. Thank you, it means a lot that despite your original reserves about this whole thing that you decided to do it with me, with all of us,” Misha says, rises up on his toes and kisses the tip of Jensen’s nose.

“Well, it was for a good cause, and sex is a _really_ good motivation so --” Jensen lets the sentence end, shrugging in faux innocence.

Misha rolls his eyes and every so lightly, smacks Jensen’s ass. Jensen glares at him because it _does_ actually hurt, even though Misha was trying to be gentle.

“You wanna head to bed?” Jensen asks, and it lacks the usual suggestion he usually throws in. This is the one night in his life he does not want Misha’s dick in his ass.

“Actually, if you’re not too tired, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to take a bath together?” Misha asks.

Jensen hadn’t even considered this option, too intent on getting home and into bed. The thought of soaking in a hot bath sounds, honestly, heavenly right now. His muscles would definitely appreciate it and maybe hurt a little less. Plus, Misha’s here so that always makes baths more fun.

“That sounds wonderful,” Jensen agrees. He slides one of his hands down from Misha’s neck to take Misha’s hand, slotting their fingers together.

He squeezes Misha’s hand and asks, “Right now?”

“Sure, then we can get all sleepy and collapse,” Misha winks at him and Jensen’s heart does a little flip in his chest.

Jensen doesn’t let go of Misha’s hand while they walk, or in Misha’s case, limp, down the hallway to where Jensen’s master bathroom is. It was a necessity when he bought the place that it had one of those fancy whirlpool tubs, with enough space for at least one other person. He’d settled on one that could fit four people, which ended up coming in handy many times over the years.

They separate once inside the bathroom, Jensen going over to the tub to start the water running and Misha sits down on the edge of the tub, massaging at the muscle of his hip that lines down to his knee. He told Jensen earlier he isn’t sure what is wrong exactly, only assuming he exacerbated his injury and that it feels better when he massages it.

Jensen pours a generous amount of lavender soap into the tub and then steps back to let it do its thing. He turns to look at Misha and finds him frowning down at his leg. He’s dragging his thumb down the length of the aching muscle and is gingerly trying to straight his leg. Jensen kneels beside him and brackets Misha’s knee between his hands, helping him ease it out.

“Thanks,” Misha whispers, and Jensen nods, leaning down to kiss the curve of Misha’s knee. Misha’s cards his fingers through Jensen’s hair slow and gentle. Jensen looks up through his eyelashes at him and sees Misha looking back at him with an affectionate smile etched onto his mouth.

Jensen rises back up to his feet, and Misha follows. Jensen’s hand hovers at Misha’s side to help him, but he gets up fine. Misha reaches out with his fingers, tugs on the hem of Jensen’s shirt and says, “Clothes. Off.”

They help each other, slowly peeling each article of clothing off, and tossing it into a large pile on the floor near the sink. Jensen feels chilled once his body is exposed to the air, the steam rising up from the bath around them not enough to keep him from shivering.

Misha gets in first, a sigh punching out of his chest when he sinks down into the warm water. He scoots back until he’s up against the wall of the tub, lets his legs straighten out and rests his arms along the edge. The tub is still filling up, nearly halfway now and bubbles are piling up, a few brushing the underside of Misha’s chin.

“Fuck, _this_ was a good idea,” Misha groans, and then he’s cringing as he moves his right leg a little.

“Gotta have a good idea to counter the bad one, right?” Jensen replies.

“Mhmm, come in here with me,” Misha says, eying Jensen and splashing the top of the water with his palm.

Jensen does, stepping in carefully and hisses when his skin touches the hot water. He lets his body adjust, and then slides fully in. He sits across from Misha at first, but then Misha holds out his hand and Jensen just goes to him. He turns and scoots back until his back is right up against Misha’s chest, fitting into the space there and sighs happily when Misha’s arms slip around his waist.

Jensen rests his forearms atop Misha’s where they rest on his tummy, and arches back when Misha kisses the back of his neck.

“That’s better,” Misha murmurs, tangling his fingers with Jensen’s and squeezes.

“I’m sorry about your hip,” Jensen says, and slides his hand down Misha’s thigh under the water, pausing on the side of Misha’s hip with an open flat palm, careful not to press down at all.

“It’s okay,” Misha replies, nuzzling against the back of Jensen’s neck, “I don’t think there’s anything too terrible wrong with it. Plus it was a once in a lifetime thing right?”

“You’re never running another marathon?” Jensen asks, acting faux shocked.

“Fuck no, that was too much,” Misha says, laughing.

“Well, _I_ am never running again _._ ”

He’s being completely serious, he hates running anyway, this marathon only increased his hatred.

“Drama queen,” Misha says and starts tickling Jensen’s sides under the water. Jensen jerks, giggling and splashing the water with his leg. The muscles in his calf go taut and a blast of pain rushes down his leg to his ankle. He outwardly groans in pain, and Misha instantly stops, pressing his mouth against Jensen’s hair and whispers, “I didn’t think that would make you hurt, I’m sorry.”

“Asshole,” Jensen teases affectionately, and squeezes Misha’s hands where they’re back enclasped over his tummy.

They sit in silence together for a while, enjoying the combined heat of the water and each other’s bodies. Jensen keeps his hands resting on Misha’s and lets himself relax. The longer he sits there, the less his muscles ache, he feels all loose from the warm and his eyelids are getting heavier, wanting sleep. He must fall asleep, because he’s jolted awake by wetness on his nose, and reaches up with his hand and finds a glob of bubbles on his nose Misha put there.

“Hey,” Jensen protests, grabbing a handful of soap from next to him and reaching over his shoulder to slam it against Misha’s nose and mouth. Misha sputters behind him, giggling.

“You fell asleep,” he says as if that’s an answer, but it’s cute. Jensen cranes his neck around to look at him and finds Misha grinning mischievously at him.

The angle is awkward, but Jensen kisses him anyway. He looks cute, so obviously Jensen has to kiss him. Jensen pulls back quicker than he normally would due to the angle, and they go back to their companionable silence.

Jensen is on the verge of sleep again, when he feels Misha’s hand move underneath his. He slips it out from under Jensen’s and sides down low on his hip. Jensen feels the pads of Misha’s fingers ghost along the side of Jensen’s cock. He sucks in a breath and clenches at Misha’s thigh with his hand.

“Can I?” Misha asks in a whisper, lips brushing the shell of Jensen’s ear.

“Yeah,” Jensen groans.

That’s all of an answer Misha needs, before he’s wrapping his fist around Jensen’s cock, at the base and sliding up in a smooth, slow stroke.

It’s always different in the water, smoother and the weightless feeling surrounding him amplifies every touch. He wasn’t hard when Misha started, but it only takes a few strokes and the wet of Misha’s mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck to get him halfway there.

Jensen arches against him as Misha quickens his pace, gasping as Misha pulls Jensen as close to him as possible with the hand that is still on his tummy. He’s gentler than usual, and takes his time, keeping an even pace going that has Jensen twitching in his hand quickly getting close. Misha sucks a mark on his lower neck, and Jensen whimpers into it, gripping Misha’s thigh tighter. He feels a little bad for holding onto him, but Misha’s not telling him to stop, so he clings and lets Misha take care of him.

“Jensen,” Misha groans, right against his ear, and Jensen feels how hard Misha is against him, grinding on his ass while Jensen fucks into his fist.

Misha slows down, alternating between rubbing his thumb over Jensen’s slit and steady tight strokes, that have Jensen’s entire body sparking with need.

“Come for me,” Misha orders, and Jensen does right into Misha’s hand, with a low whine of Misha’s name. Misha keeps his hand wrapped around Jensen’s cock, stroking him through his orgasm until it becomes too much, and Jensen whines, squirming to try and get away.

Jensen turns in the water once he’s come down enough to be aware of everything around him, moving so his entire body is lined along Misha’s, touching every inch of him he can.

He brackets his arms on the side of the tub around Misha’s head and leans down to kiss him, putting all the intensity rushing through him into it. Misha licks into his mouth, and reaches out grabbing at Jensen’s hips in the water to pull Jensen flush against him. Jensen isn’t anywhere close to being hard again, but it still feels amazing to have the heat of Misha’s cock pressed up against him.

“Your hip,” Jensen murmurs, briefly breaking the kiss and then groaning when Misha licks along the seal of his mouth.

“I’ll be okay, just... c’mon,” Misha growls, grips Jensen tighter and thrust against him.

They keep kissing as they sync up the movement of their bodies. Jensen tries to be gentle, doesn’t wanna hurt him, and let’s Misha set the pace for him. He’s surrounded by the warmth of the water and Misha’s wet mouth, basking in how fast Misha’s getting close just by the two of them grinding together. He’s moaning into Jensen’s mouth, and they’re barely kissing now, open mouths and lips brushing. Misha is bucking against his hips, desperately. Jensen doesn’t need to, but he drops one of his hands into the water and wraps his hand around Misha’s cock, giving him a few quick strokes. That’s all it takes and Misha is coming, mouth slack sliding on Jensen’s lips, a low groan leaving his throat.

Misha kisses Jensen’s jaw, along the line of it until he gets to his mouth and gives Jensen the softest kiss he’s ever had in his entire life.

“You okay?” he asks, once he’s come down, still breathless.

His eyes are bright, and he’s smiling but Jensen can see the worry present there that this might have been too much.

“Perfect, Mish,” Jensen says, giving him one last lingering kiss.

The water has turned lukewarm, and when Jensen glances down at his hands, his fingers are pruny and pale. It’s probably time to get out.

“Time for bed?” Jensen suggests, and Misha’s combined yawn and nod tell Jensen all he needs to know.

Jensen steps out of the tub first, grabbing two towels off the rack next to the tub. He takes Misha’s hand and helps him out, resting a comforting hand on Misha’s back when he cringes in pain as he puts weight on his right leg. He wraps a towel around Misha’s shoulders and leans in, kissing the middle of Misha’s forehead.

“That was a great idea, thanks.”

“Mmmm, do you feel better?” Misha asks, smiling.

“Much better, do you?”

“My hip isn’t, but the rest of me is,” Misha replies. “I am relaxed, and that’s what matters.”

Jensen dries himself off, watching as Misha carefully does the same, trying not to overextend his hip too much. He really hopes Misha gets it checked out soon, hopefully it’s just a tight muscle and nothing more serious. They didn’t bring in clothes with them, so they wrap the towels loosely around their hips, and head into Jensen’s bedroom.

Misha sits on the edge of Jensen’s bed, and Jensen can feel his eyes on him as Jensen starts pulling clothes out of his dresser. He tosses Misha a pair of sweatpants, and hears him snort.

“Those aren’t going to fit, I need a pair of your older ones.”

“Maybe you need to have smaller thighs,” Jensen shoots back, smirking at Misha over his shoulder.

“As if you want that,” Misha replies.

Jensen rolls his eyes and flips Misha off over his shoulder. Unfortunately, he’s right. Jensen starts digging deeper into his drawer to find another pair. He does find a pair of grey sweatpants he’s had for years, they’re so stretched out Misha has to fit into these. He tosses them over his head, hoping he aimed right.

“Yeah, these will work.”

“Bingo,” Jensen sing-songs. He finds a pair for himself and slips them on. There’s still a dull ache reverberating down the length of his thighs down to his calves, but he does feel better, the warmth seeped into him and loosened everything up. Now, he’s just ready for sleep.

He crosses the room to where Misha is sitting, and gently takes both of Misha’s hands into his. He stares down at him, and just looks, noting how the crinkles around his eyes are more pronounced right now, and he _does_ look tied, but he’s still so inexplicably gorgeous he will never not take Jensen’s breath away.

“Come to bed?” Jensen asks.

Misha doesn’t answer with words, instead just nods and rises to his feet, hands still held in Jensen’s.

They separate when they move to the sides of the bed, Misha’s fingers clinging to Jensen’s even as they pull apart.

Misha crawls in across from him, the two of them making a chorus of groaning from the pain shooting down their legs and throughout their bodies. They both burst into laughter once their heads hit the pillows.

“We’re old,” Misha giggles.

“Speak for yourself, old man,” Jensen teases, and Misha slaps him on the shoulder.

Misha’s touch doesn’t vanish for long, he’s reaching out for Jensen seconds later, wrapping a warm palm across Jensen’s side and tugging him closer. They always sleep face to face it’s been their thing for the past nine years. Sometimes in the middle of the night Jensen will end up with his back pressed up against Misha’s chest, Misha’s nose buried in the crook of Jensen’s neck, and his arms snug around Jensen’s middle.

They always start off the same, noses brushing, and arms looped around each other’s waists, eyes fixed on each other.

“Did you set an alarm? We won’t wake up otherwise,” Misha asks.

“Mhmm, I got it.”

“Thanks,” Misha says, lips curving up into a soft smile.

Jensen leans in and kisses him, and they become a tangle of limbs and hot mouths, kissing lazily for what feels like hours.

“Good night, Mish,” Jensen breathes when they pull apart, and he feels consciousness slowly starting to slip away from him.

“Night Jensen.”

Jensen lets the comforting feel of Misha’s breath ghosting over his cheek lull him to sleep.

Tomorrow is going to be rough and painful, but right now with Misha’s arm wrapped around him and their noses brushing, Jensen feels as close to perfect as a man who just ran a marathon can.


End file.
